


Baby, it's just miles on a car

by hayj



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Road Trips, but definitely not the porniest porn Romeo's ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 06:18:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13518312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayj/pseuds/hayj
Summary: Bass Monroe meets a feisty waitress at a roadside diner in New Mexico. Or ... does he?





	Baby, it's just miles on a car

**Author's Note:**

> Well, if you read my (Romeo's) latest fic (which I finally finished! After a year and a half! Hooray!), you know that I posted an Author's Note over there saying that it would be my last fic. Apparently I lied. LOL. I really didn't intend to write another fic, but Hayj threw this delicious little thing at me the other night and asked me to help her with it. Turns out, it was just what my muse needed to get back into writing Charloe. :D So I asked her if I could adopt it. She, of course, being the sweetheart that she is, said yes. But this is most definitely a co-write, since the original draft of this was written by Hay. I just reworked and expanded a few things. So she definitely gets a writing credit. 
> 
> Thanks, Hay, for letting me play with this one. I hope you enjoy the final draft. And to all my friends and readers who have so faithfully followed my work, thanks for all your support over the years. I really do think this is my last and final fic that I'll be contributing to this fandom. It's been a good run, but it's time for me to move on. So do a girl a favor and leave me some kudos/comments here? Pretty please? I'd love to hear your thoughts. :) 
> 
> I suppose it's only fair that I end my Revo fic writing "career" with a Charloe fic. They were, after all, my very first OTP on this show! <3

 

***

Leaving the greasy roadside diner just outside of Albuquerque, Bass Monroe slid into the leathery driver's seat of his rental car, only to be assaulted by the pungent stench of cigarette smoke.

 

There, in the passenger seat, was the gorgeous blonde waitress from the diner, whom he’d just seen quit in a fiery explosion of curse words.

 

“Can I help you?” He coughed, warily eyeing the ‘No Smoking’ stickers on the dash before rolling down all the windows to let the acrid smoke escape.

 

“God, I hope so,” Blondie sighed, grinning mischievously at him. She stretched her hand out and offered it to him. “Name’s Charlotte. But you can call me Charlie.”

 

“Okay ... Charlie. Is there something I can help you with?” He tentatively shook her hand.  

 

“Well, I was hoping you could give me a ride,” she said matter of factly before turning loose of his hand to dig through the large tote bag at her side. She pulled out a threadbare blue tank top with a squeal of success, then tossed her cigarette out the window.

 

Bass watched, momentarily mesmerized, as the girl -- she had to be what … twenty? Twenty one? -- shamelessly unzipped her pink uniform to reveal a set of perky breasts that were straining to escape the lacy white bra she wore.

 

“A ride?” He stupidly repeated, eyes riveted to her tits as she pulled the tank top on over her head.

 

“Uh huh.”

 

He made the mistake of glancing lower when she slid off the rest of her uniform; then had to clear his throat when he discovered that her bare mound was covered by nothing more than a triangle of white satin. She caught him staring and simply winked at him before sliding a tiny pair of black denim cutoffs up her long, tanned legs.

 

Bass shook his head in an attempt to clear it of the dirty thoughts that were now dancing around up there, then watched as Charlie tossed her uniform out the window. It landed on her still smoldering cigarette.

 

He narrowed his eyes as he brought his gaze back up to meet hers. “Are you in some kind of trouble, Charlie?”

 

“No.” She simply shrugged. Then kicked off her sandals and propped her bare feet up on the dash.

 

Bass stared at her perfectly pedicured red toenails for a moment. “Listen you seem like a nice girl and all, but don’t you think--”

 

“Oh my God, here we go!” She huffed, cutting him off as she pulled her feet down. “Look, Mr. … whatever your name is. I don’t have time for a fucking lecture. K? I’m in a hurry. You seemed like a nice guy, and I figured you could earn some cash. But apparently I was wrong. So if you’re not interested--”

 

“Ok, alright. I’m sorry,” Bass sighed, running a hand over his mouth. “I just … I think you should be careful. Lots of weirdos out there.”

 

Charlie rolled her eyes and gathered her bag before reaching for the door handle. “Sorry for the inconvenience then.”

 

Feeling a strange sense of loss as he watched her start to leave, he found himself blurting out his next sentence before he could even stop himself. “It’s Bass.”

 

She was partially out of the car already, but she froze and turned to look at him, her left eyebrow skeptically arched. “Excuse me?”

 

He cleared his throat and mentally berated himself for getting involved in … whatever the hell this was.

 

“The name’s Bass,” he explained. “Get in, and I’ll give you a ride.”

 

Charlie beamed, dimples instantly popping in both of her cheeks as she settled back into her seat and shut the door once again. “Thank you, Bass! Seriously. Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

She reached for the seatbelt and buckled up. “So what changed your mind?”

 

“I’ve got two baby sisters back home in Indiana. I’d like to hope that if they were ever in the same position, someone decent would help them out as well.”

 

That mischievous look from earlier was back on Charlie’s face as she grinned at him. “I guarantee I’m _nothing_ like your sisters back home in Indiana, Bass.”

 

“That somehow doesn’t surprise me,” he chuckled. “So, Charlie, where’re you headed?”

 

“A little place called Willoughby, Texas.”

 

“What’s in Willoughby?” He narrowed his eyes. Texas? She wanted him to drive her to fucking Texas? That had to be … a ten hour drive. At least.

 

She huffed out an impatient sigh. “My grandpa lives there. In case you hadn’t noticed, I just quit my fucking job, and I don’t have much money. So I’ll crash with Gramps for a while until I figure something out.”

 

Bass felt the dull throb of an oncoming headache and rubbed the back of his neck. This definitely had ‘bad idea’ written all over it.

 

“I know it’s kind of far, but ….” She reached over and dragged a finger down the length of his arm, then boldly slid a warm hand onto his jean-clad thigh, causing his cock to twitch inside his pants. “I promise, Bass. I’ll make it worth your time.”

 

With a sharply sucked in breath and a nod that made Charlie snicker victoriously, Bass started the car and backed out of the dusty gravel parking lot and onto the open road.

 

\---

 

They were just over an hour into their journey when Charlie decided they needed to make a stop.

 

“Pull over up there,” she ordered, pointing to an arbitrary spot on the side of the highway.

 

Bass looked around, then raised an eyebrow at her. “Out here? Why?”

 

They were literally in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but miles and miles of dusky desert that was cut into two sides by a two-lane asphalt highway that ran through it. And according to the sign they’d just passed, the nearest rest stop was another 20 miles away.

 

“Come on, just do it,” she pouted. “Please, Bass?”

 

He wondered how and when he became so goddamn spineless even as he pulled the car over and put it in park.

 

“Turn the engine off,” Charlie giggled, unbuckling her seatbelt.

 

He’d barely finished turning the key when she reached over and grabbed him by the front of his shirt.

 

“Mmm,” she moaned, tugging him close. “Come here.”

 

She wasted no time and pressed her lips against his.

 

He tensed up for a second, the chivalrous part of his brain telling him to pull away; telling him to stop enabling this ‘act now, think later’ recklessness that apparently was Charlie’s thing. But goddamnit, the girl could kiss. She wasn’t shy at all and clearly knew exactly what she wanted. It didn’t take long for the kiss to go from a tentative first meeting between two pairs of lips to full on pornographic: her tongue eagerly making its way into his mouth as she licked and sucked and nipped and explored.

 

His hands ended up tangled in her long golden hair while hers tangled in his t-shirt.

 

Screw chivalry, he decided and kissed her back with hungry force, his tongue erotically dancing with hers.

 

By the time Charlie pulled back, her face was flushed and those adorable dimples were back on full display. And Bass was rock hard.

 

“Damn,” he sighed, attempting to catch his breath as he looked around and noticed the fogged up windows.  

 

“Been wanting to do that ever since you walked into the diner,” she confessed before reaching over and casually unzipping his jeans. “Along with … a few _other_ things.”

 

Sucking in a sharp breath, he didn’t even try to stop her when she wrapped her hand around his cock and pulled him free.

 

“Shit, Charlie,” he groaned as she stroked him up and down from base to tip.

 

She grinned. “You like?”

 

A rhetorical question, obviously, because before he could spit out an answer, she was already on her knees on the passenger seat with the upper half of her body draped over the center console. Her blue eyes sparkled with lust as she winked at him, then lowered her wicked little mouth onto his cock.

 

“Fuck,” he hissed as she bobbed up and down. Once again, the girl knew exactly what she was doing. He fisted his hands in her hair again and began to move his hips in time with the merciless pace she was setting with her mouth.

 

She alternated between licking and sucking, licking and sucking, her hand occasionally reaching out to stroke his balls, causing the pressure in his belly to build - slow and warm and pulsing.

 

“Mmm,” she hummed around his shaft as she continued to take him deeper into her mouth.

 

“Oh, fuck. Fuck! Charlie! Yes … just like that!”

 

“You like that, Monroe?” She teased, tracing the veins on his cock with her tongue, then sucking again. “Does it feel good, Monroe?”

 

“Yes,” he groaned, jerking his hips.

 

… wait.

 

Did she just call him Monroe?

 

He didn’t remember telling her his last name ….

 

_“Mm, Monroe … Monroe … Monroe ….”_

 

Everything went hazy … which didn’t make any sense. He hadn’t even come yet. And then, all of a sudden, there was a blindingly sharp pain in his side.

 

\---

 

“Monroe!” Charlie yells. “Wake up, you sick fuck!”

 

Bass grabs his side and groans, but this time, it’s not a groan of pleasure. His eyes pop open and he finds himself lying on the ground - on top of his bed roll, actually. He’s fully clothed and sweaty and has a raging hard-on.

 

Charlotte Matheson is standing over him, her greasy blonde hair dangling in front of her dirt-smudged face. And she does _not_ look amused as she stares down at him.

 

“You’re doing it again,” she grits out.

 

Jesus, his side really hurts. Did she kick him, or something? Knowing her, she probably did.

 

“Doing what?” He asks as he slowly sits up and looks around. It’s the middle of the night and they’re … well, who the fuck even knows? Somewhere in the Plains Nation, probably. “Did you just kick me?”

 

“Stop having sex dreams about me!” She snarls, then stomps back over to her own bed roll and plops down onto it.

 

Bass snorts. He probably shouldn’t be laughing because the girl clearly still wants to kill him and is actually capable of doing it. But seeing her all flustered and embarrassed like this is pretty fucking funny.

 

Plus, she’s hot as hell when she’s pissed.

 

They’ve been on the road together for about two weeks - just the two of them, plus the horses and wagon he stole. They’re on their way to Willoughby, Texas, which apparently is where Miles is these days. Playing house with Rachel or some stupid shit.

 

During these two weeks, Bass has developed a particular fondness for Charlie. Even if she’s still a pain in his ass.

 

And yeah, he’s willing to admit it: he’s been having sex dreams about her for the past several nights. But it’s not his fault. It’s not like he can control what his subconscious conjures up while he’s asleep.

 

“Hey, kid,” he hollers. “You wanna come back over here and help me out?”

 

She’s moved her sleeping bag far, far away from his and is now lying on top of it, facing away from him. “Help you with what?” She grumbles.

 

Miles, Bass thinks. She grumbles just like Miles.

 

“With this situation. In my pants … which, technically, _you_ caused.”

 

She rolls over and glares at him, her face incredulous even from a distance. “Say that again, and I swear to God, I _will_ come over there and cut your balls off.”

 

“Uh huh.” He smirks, then reaches down to unzip his pants.

 

“Ew! You’re disgusting!” She shrieks and haphazardly scrambles to her feet.

 

He snickers and sighs, then watches as she marches toward a nearby grove of trees, leaving him and his hand to finish his business.

 

\- THE END - 


End file.
